


Amaranthine

by SkyHighDisco



Series: Grey Novelette [4]
Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Afterlife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26029810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyHighDisco/pseuds/SkyHighDisco
Summary: Short post-White Bee. On the other side, Jeremy is bargaining for his James May Poo-Time back.
Series: Grey Novelette [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832563
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Amaranthine

**Author's Note:**

> _Ivan Torrent - Facing Fears_

* * *

“No, you don't understand.”

The giant, building-sized white-and-gold bee indeed doesn’t seem to understand. She is producing pleasant chirrs and deep murmurs and observes him curiously with shifting eyes of molten gold. Her wings are waves of white silk in the air adorned in misty light and they are slowly cruising up and down and Jeremy thinks it is an involuntary action, but the tilts of the head she makes don’t add up to the impression of magnificence.

Though majestic, Jeremy learns that she had, for the vast majority, tendencies of an animalistic body she represents, even though he is aware without having actually asked that this before him is an extremely powerful and all-knowing entity.

Oh, and he's also learned she is as old as Big Bang, by the way.

“He was holding dozens of people up. Probably still is!” he squeaks almost desperately. His voice is higher, richer and easier to produce. He also feels he has more hair on his head, bounced around by the wind in thick, curly knots, and less hanging skin around his face, neck and body. He can see and hear clearer, too.

The bee chirps again, but he doesn’t hear a soft, feminine voice in his head. He also knows he doesn’t have to use his mouth either, but he’s tried this mind-conversation thing when he was reunited with his parents and quickly decided it was going to take some time getting used to.

“We had a deal. Richard and I”, Jeremy insists stubbornly. “I did my bidding, I did my waiting, there are flights we missed because of _him_. _James May_ owes me his _time_.”

The giant ethereal insect doesn’t openly react. Or blinks for that matter. In fact, the longer Jeremy observed her, the more he could see her body isn’t exactly all insectile. Somehow, because of some anatomic feature, she is able to position herself like her chest are puffing out and goodness gracious that fur looks so soft and Jeremy just wants to snuggle in it and fall asleep.

But on the other side, he also feels bad for taking so much of her time. Being someone who leads souls to the afterlife must be a tremendously perilous job and Jeremy should be glad the bee managed to separate a speck of time to hear him out.

“Just… listen, please. It’s simple”, Jeremy tries one last time, bringing his palms together imploringly. Gentle yellow light of the sun is pouring over the clouds, basking everything in gold that will never come close to the one adorning the light-born entity. “The amount of time I’ve wasted waiting for him to finish not only a number two, but to finish a bloody- - oh, pardon me – his crossword as well, had to have been stored somewhere.”

Silence.

“A day.”

Not a blink.

“Alright, an hour.”

Stare.

Jeremy’s eyes roll with an exasperated scoff. “My, are we difficult. Alright, a minute. Just one minute. Just…” he gulps, hoping the candour in his eyes can be as clearly seen as he feels it. “If I could see him again. Them. If I could see them all again one last time and they can see me and I can tell him how much... how much…”

Something changes in the dual rippling lakes of gold and Jeremy realizes the joke has come to an end. The act is broken. He sighs, sags, closes his eyes.

“There’s no going back, is there?” he says sadly, staring across the vast field of golden grass and the horizon where it meets the sky of white clouds. “There really isn’t. Not even a remote chance.”

A low, mild, affectionate chirr rumbles by his ear and small, soft hairs tickle Jeremy’s ear and cheek, but he cannot bring himself to look. It’s embarrassing, really. He would’ve been blushing furiously if he could.

_Worry not. Where you are, time does not exist. A million years and a blink are all the same._

His head isn’t finished echoing and he turns and buries his head into the side of the bee’s head, getting swallowed by fur. It’s heavenly soft, softer than any blanket he’s been covered with while he was alive, fluffier than any pile of feathers he’s stuffed into his giggling face after tearing open his pillow when he was little and Jeremy feels lighter than he already is, his head loses the train of straight thoughts, gyrates in a brilliant vortex of serenity and peace.

“I miss them”, he admits longingly. He doesn’t feel pain anymore. Actually can’t remember how it’s supposed to feel like. A little more and he will forget its meaning and, eventually, the word itself.

_I will bring your friends to you when their time comes._

“I wish I could’ve told them. Just once in my life. How much I love them.”

_You will. You have._

Jeremy thinks about importance of some things in life and irrelevances of others. How nothing really matters. Not the amount of acres you own, quantity of vehicles stuffed in your brand new garage, people you come together with, whom you drift apart from, amount of money you make, books you write, cars you destroy — in the end it’s all completely useless. In the end you aren’t judged by any of it. You can’t bring any of it with you.

The only thing that matters is keeping the ones you hold dear close to you. It matters that you hold them there, treat them as you would treat yourself, shower them with divine words, give them all of you, even as they don’t give you them back.

He wishes he can tell them all, to his family, to James, to Richard… He wishes he could tell them how simple life is supposed to be if we’d all just pull our heads out of the sand and look up at the sun. Up there, up there are all the answers… It took him a death to realize that. And he isn’t even closely the only one.

Jeremy opens his eyes and he is alone in the field. Wind has only him to play with.

The bee is gone.

She has a major duty to dedicate to, after all.

And Jeremy sits down, legs crossed. And waits.

He can wait.

After all, where is the rush?


End file.
